The poem
O hurry where by water among the trees The delicate-stepping stag and his lady sigh, When they have but looked upon their images - Would none had ever loved but you and I!
Or have you heard that sliding silver-shoed Pale silver-proud queen-woman of the sky, When the sun looked out of his golden hood? - O that none ever loved but you and I!
O hurty to the ragged wood, for there I will drive all those lovers out and cry - O my share of the world, O yellow hair! No one has ever loved but you and I.